


To Whom We Forgot

by Forest_Awakens



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, SCP Foundation, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: 001 proposal, Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Blood and Gore, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Malon is mentioned, Mental Instability, Minish - Freeform, Vaati is here for one chapter and one chapter only, altered scps, attempts at fight scenes, idk anymore actually, improper use of rituals, incorrect use of sled birds and Ring Cameras, it just sounds that way, let time sleep 2020, not wild centric i swear, poor life decisions and their repercussions, poor use of latin, questionable death status, sometimes beta read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_Awakens/pseuds/Forest_Awakens
Summary: We forget many things, yet Dr. Wild is one whose forgotten and remembered perhaps too much. Yet here he is, stuck as one of the few remaining humans in existence. It is these few remaining that must find a way to destroy the wrongfully forgotten, and perhaps dig up what should remain unknown.The weird ass doctors, the kid whose a tad too old for this, the varying SCPs and the guard who won't admit he's just as strange and that one kid whose way to excited for the end of the world really should have not been allowed to save everyone.Also, why the FUCK is everyone left alive named Link?!
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	1. In The Eternal Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. Uh, warning for mentions of a lack of humans?
> 
> the real title is supposed to be: To Whom We Forgot, Fuck You.

A man sits at a rather boring desk, eyes shut tight as he struggles to remember. Remember what? He doesn’t know.  
He remembers too many things though. Families he’s never had. Loves he’s never met. His own life, his own real love, was just a haze. A haze of red and watery depths that stole her away. But he supposes it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was remembering. But what was he to remember?  
A document sits in front of him, written in a language he cannot remember and that he assumes he cannot read. There are numbers that should mean something, but are nothing to him.   
It's mostly scrawled, he can tell, scrawled in his own handwriting than typed and typed again. Draft after draft until there are nine in total, perhaps out of coincidence. Why nine, why a coincidence, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know a lot of things like that.  
There's a crackle and the world shifts just so slightly, not that he can tell. He glances to the side and a frazzled friend now stands beside him, eyes blown wide and blood trickling down from his nose. There's a rusted knife in his hand and in the other is a book. A note is written and pasted to it but it doesn’t matter in the end.  
The man smiles at his friend in greeting and stands to help him, forgetting the file and what he was supposed to be remembering. It doesn’t matter anyway. Or at least it shouldn’t   
After all, all forgotten things always return. The forgotten are not pleased. The forgotten is never pleased.  
Run.  
Run, lest you forget.

* * *

  
Time sighed, smiling slightly as he watched his friend bustle around. Stacks of books surrounded him, towering over the tiny kid. Each title became more and more convoluted as he read through the shelves. Few were actually rather interesting, he made a mental note to check them out later.   
The kid let out a sudden screech in either frustration or anger, pulling at his hair and ears which had Time flinching before moving to shake his hands out in front of him.  
“I swear to the goddesses, I'm going to kill whoever moved it!” He shouted, suddenly throwing his arms up in the air before allowing himself to crash backwards and lay on the rather comfortable carpeted floor.   
His golden hair spread around him like a halo and had Time not see him scale the bookshelves in less than ten seconds while screaming profanities in ten different languages at staff personnel he would’ve assumed by the pale yellow colors he wore that the kid was perhaps an angel.  
Time stood, walking to the shelf and taking out one of the books on the taller areas of the shelf. He reread the title for assurance before dropping it. The landed on him with a small ‘oof’ and an even smaller cheer of victory.  
The kid held it over his face with two hands, smiling lightly as he started leafing through the pages with care and touch of reverence. Soon he landed on a page that Time knew had been scrawled across by some dude who broke in. The bright red pen stood out. With the care of someone who had perhaps done this a million times, he ripped out the page, quickly inserting a new one with a prayer on his lips as it immediately mended into the book's spine. The torn page fluttered to the ground and Time felt the onset of a headache fast approaching.  
“Any idea what changed?” He asked, returning to lean against another shelf as the book was reinserted to the shelves.   
The kid shrugged, eyes glittering gold that tinted to purple and green at the edges. He finally relaxed against the ground in a sitting position. “Remember that town in Texas? The one that mysteriously blew up from some crazy cultists? That should be fixed.”  
“That person is at least a good 60,000 years old,” he pointed out, “What's it got to go with Texas from a week ago?”  
The kid grinned at him, “It butterflies in a very strange way, ya know? The library was going through so many hoops to try and fix this mess that it told me to just bullshit it instead. Just trust me on this, alright?”  
Time nodded, letting his sights fall on the paper. The man had been contacted by a false god, or at least that's what the handwriting stated. It was so written over that he couldn’t see the original text that the library had lovingly written. But that may be because Time didn’t try to read it fully, he knew he’d get the full story later when he dragged the kid to mandatory lunch at Camp B with a few of his other trusted staff.  
Instead, he sat on the ground as the kid began excitedly rattling off about another person’s life, a man apparently named Bloodmir who had an absolutely fabulous garden according to the library but had a small propensity for summoning dying gods. He noted to ask if this man was still alive later.  
“Oh! Dr. Time!” Both turned to see a man and a mystery approach, the ever content Dr. Sky. A smiling face greeted them warmly as a lab coat was shirked and layed on the coach near them. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. And hello there Gold! Almost didn’t see you there.”  
The kid smiled and waved. Gold, or really Four as he was called by everyone but Sky and 4001-1 when he had been around, stood and stretched, flinching at how his back cracked.   
“Sorry to steal him, but you know the time,” Sky chuckled. He sat on one of the coaches and pulled a small tablet from his pocket to make up for the disallowance of writing utensils.   
Both he and Time shook their heads at the annoyed groan they received from 4001-2. Mandatory therapy (or psychoanalyzing the psycho as Four called it) was never his favorite thing, much preferring when Sky was there to teach him stuff rather than question him.  
Time shrugged it off and picked up the scrawled page, tucking it into his pocket to be studied later. It wasn’t the most proper of holding procedures, but he really didn’t care. It was just a paper at this point, according to what Four had told him. Only useful if blank and used by him.   
With a wave and a quick move to mess up the kid’s hair, earning an indignant squawk and laugh, he moved on to begin his trek to base camp, deftly named the Topside by Four. From where he was, it was an easier walk due to the looping nature of 4001. It wasn’t long per say, just maddening. Endless shelves by endless shelves by even more endless shelves, and no matter how grand and warm it felt, it was nothing more than an uninhabited sea of curiosity. Impending quiet only substituted by the occasional squeaking laugh of 4001-3s or rustling of one of his trusted researchers. Their attempt to bring in a smidge of plant life and boost morale had yet to take effect. The library seemed unsure of what to make of it, to Time at least.  
The library was never dusty, luckily. 4001-2 and 4001-3 both kept it clean, working unseen by many. Time appreciated it though, running a hand over polished wood never led to dusty hands and it allowed for clear viewing of many countless titles. The names whirled around in his mind. Sometimes he swore he could name the entire library in his sleep. Malon would always laugh at the more interesting names he pulled up from the probably endless bank that haunted his dreams.   
Yet it would never be as many that haunted the kid.  
Time noted he should call Malon over in the offices and check on Twilight. But that was for later, as he arrived at his destination.  
Base Camp was the largest by far, as well it was also the most monitored, though that didn’t mean much. Filled with few tents and beds as well as the general food and water supplies, it was rather homey.   
But Time entered and noted one thing. It was silent. Dangerously so.  
He stared around the camp and found nobody. Items scattered across the ground, food splattered against wooden tables where people had been eating lunch and even batons that the few guards held had been dropped. All but one. One guard decked in full gear stood in the center by the stairs, panicking as he whirled around with his gun raised, training it on Time for a moment when he was spotted before lowering it and rushing over. He pulled off his helmet.  
Blonde hair and naturally handsome, yet eyes wide and watching. Calculating. He was someone who had seen many, many things.   
Time recognized him as Warriors, head of the local security dispatch group and someone who shouldn't have been here.  
“Oh thank god,” Warriors breathed, obviously distressed. “Everyone is gone. Inside, outside, just everyone! What the hell is happening, doc?!”  
Time held up his hands in a placating moment, eyes hardening and mouth set in a grim line. The familiarity of this was encompassing. “No idea. I was with 4001-2 and Dr. Sky the whole time. By everyone, you mean, nobody else is out there?”  
The guard shook his head, taking a breath, “No. No, Dr. Wild and Wind, uh, a junior researcher is still there, locked in one of the offices just in case. I’m just trying to find, well, anyone.”  
“And the civilians?  
“Gone.”  
“Are there any signals going?”  
“No sir, nothing. Absolutely silent on air ways according to Wind.”  
“Alright, any time? Date? Anything?”  
“Almost thirty minutes, sir.”  
“Well, shit.” me breathed. “Well, at least we know that we have two others-”  
The guard jerked to attention, gun held high as Time gave a shout of surprise as he whirled around. Standing behind him was 4001-2, books in hand as he stared at them with an utter look of frustration and fear. For a moment Time was afraid he had messed up and they would be kicked from the library. Or the kid would finally have enough of humanity, by far his greatest fear. He would have enough and decide to just destroy it in a blaze of fury. The library would let him too.  
“Mind telling me why everyone’s been kidnapped?” He asked, eyeing the gun.  
Time shook his head and moved to grab a book handed to him by the kid, eyes widening at the title of Malon Lon Lon written in the strange script. Bookmarked dutifully by a ribbon was a page that ended suddenly, writing slowly appearing in looping cursive so unlike what is in the rest of the book, or any book for that matter.  
‘Taken by the forgotten god. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Wai’  
It continued, on and on as Time started. Four carefully took it from his hands and closed it, probably for the best before Time lost it. He hid it behind his back away from the aim and view of the guard, refusing to even acknowledge him besides that.  
“Almost everyone is like this and the shelves aren’t expanding anymore. I uh, I have a few ones that haven’t been taken if you want a list. Sky's fine and still here.”  
“Alright kid, write em out for me. You,” He turned to the guard who had basically taken to twiddling his thumbs. “Go get anyone left in the facility. Dr. Wild and Wind especially. Check outside while you're at it. I want all reports from outside and for the love of both your job and the rest of humanity, get rid of that damned gun.”  
With a nod the guard ran out, re fixing his helmet as his scarf billowed behind him. Definitely not regulation. He didn’t even question the orders. Time could appreciate that but at this point he wondered if it would one day cost this man’s life.  
Time turned to the forgotten terminals and walked over to his own, glancing to see Four furiously writing down in the strange wooden pen that the foundation had always failed to take away. With a few strokes on his keyboard and a few jumps through applications he brought up the vitals of everyone in the site.  
Six. seven if you included his. Eight if you considered 4001.2 a part of this. Nine if you included his son who was home. The rest were gone. Nonexistent as if the world had suddenly swallowed them. He sure as hell hoped it hadn’t  
With a few clicks he watched in slight shock as the guard barreled past the security system like it was nothing, undetected by the guns, sensors, and everything else.   
He deactivated them, not thinking twice about this. He remembered what had happened last time he never deactivated them. With a glance to Four, and a sigh of perhaps sorrow or regret. He readied for the days ahead.  
Time to survive.


	2. Of Flamingoes and Scarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legend meets up with Warriors after a small trip though a suspicious hallway. In other news, Wild, Hyrule, and Wind are not injured for the most part. Sadly that one flamingo is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its kinda short and im still getting into the groove of things, sorry :/

Legend glanced about the office hallways, silence permeating the air. It was suffocating, crushing. It stole his breath away and replaced it with dirt, sand, and glass. Still, he started to move from where he had paused, a strange feeling leaving him.  
He clutched a gun in his hand, one that a guard had dropped, nondescript and probably better maintained than most things in the damned facilities. No doubt he’d lose his allowance to have a job if the foundation had seen him carrying one. Legend didn’t ponder this, though; after all, in his own words, fuck the foundation. He’s not dying to some random ass monster. Not today anyway.  
It was incredibly silent, so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat and the soft ticking of the millions of clocks scattered throughout the facilities, their endless stream no longer deafening, as they had been when he had first begun working. But still there was no life. No person. Nobody but the pounding, dull quiet that's too silent to be real and too loud to be fake.  
But for a second he hears the soft rustling of grass around him, so soft and perfect and full of splendid color as he listens. And he can almost hear her singing. The sweetest voice of sheer perfection. A lullaby that graces the soul and heart of all those who hear.  
But he snapped back to reality and looked around him. He was alone. Terribly, crushingly alone.  
Then, he hears it. Shuffling. A few muffled voices, a few screams, and the sound of a gun firing. A gun firing continuously. There's a pause and the shouting resumes with the firing or a single gun.  
Legend is not completely alone, and he does not know if that terrifies him or not.  
Who knows who they are?  
Legend sure as hell doesn't. Or he thinks he doesn't  
He quickened his steps, the faintest ticking growing louder, in time to the gunshots. Something dying set off one of the anomalies, and now it called to be used. The drumbeat in the back of his head led to a throbbing headache. Each beat of his heart led to another tick of the clock, another gunshot, and another cracking ounce of pain in the back of his skull. But still he paid it no mind.  
One foot in front of the other.  
The man, the myth, and the legend himself, Legend, continued on, now jogging down the hallway.  
He had to beat the object, but which one? He couldn't remember. He just had to get out, had to find someone before the looping began.  
Every door began to look the same. Every floor tile, ceiling tile, every single grain in the smooth wooden doors he passed had the same silver number nine hung on Dr. Malon's door.  
"Shit," he hissed under his breath and began running, furiously searching for another number besides that damning nine as the ticking began to drown out the gunshots.  
Still the nine. Again and again and again.  
Legend squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily as he furiously scrubbed his eyes with his rough, standard issue shirt sleeve. He ran into something, not a door and something definitely alive. He stumbled back and raised his weapon as the other did the same. A guard. He's wearing an anomaly yet appears fine with too perfect of a smile and golden hair, missing the standard issue helmet. He would be friendly without the weapon pointed at Legend's head. Legend decided he hated him.  
Slowly, the guard lowers his gun and motions Legend to so the same, giving a smile, "Alright, first of all sorry there, sir. I'm here to take all survivors to Dr. Time, so if you could follow me."  
"Okay, first of all, fuck you, and second of all, I'm not going anywhere until I know what the hell is happening," Legend growled.  
The guard looked behind him before moving to check office number eight. "Everyone but us and a few others have disappeared." Now, door seven as Legend moved to follow for presumed conversation, "Doc Time, Doc Sky, and Doc Wild are still going strong and Doc Time has requested all survivors head to him for planning. I’m the escort. Name’s Warriors, head of security, but we should leave now. Did you meet anyone else?"  
Legend paused for a second, breathing in a small sigh of relief at the changing office numbers before staring in slight confusion at the anomaly around the guard's neck. "No, but there's gunshots upstairs."  
"Shit, that's probably Doc Wild and Wind." he said. "Come on, we can play ‘existential crisis’ later."  
Legend rolled his eyes and started following behind Warriors, hunched slightly and ignoring his own sniffling. He ignored as well that the loop shouldn't have been broken. It couldn't've been.  
SCPs be damned, one did not simply walk into Isengard and break the effects of a time- and space-altering anomaly that was only contained by the buddy system, a lack of people dying, and a cardboard box.  
One extremely awkward elevator ride and a mutual distrust shuffle to the sound of gunshots led them to Dr. Wild's office, the man who was head of directing experimentation over time keeping anomalies. They opened the door to find two men and a young teen, who clutched a suspicious cardboard box, staring at the extremely mangled creature. One wearing a standard-issue foundation uniform was holding a very non-standard-issue gun and was indeed firing in rapid succession at the creature who was still twitching slightly. The other two starred in ajax confusion and fascination as it just didn't want to die.  
"Yeah, humanity sure is doomed," Legend whispered to Warriors, who had also taken aim for a second before decidedly ignoring the probably dead creature in favor of fretting over the young teen. Said young teen was the world--or rather site 71--renowned Wind, who was famous for his tendency to bring back thought dead friendly SCPs and was excited in this end of the world scenario. You know. Like you do.  
"it followed me back to this world," the gunman, Hyrule, said. "Anyway, whaddya need, Legend?"  
"Worlds ending and we're heading to Mr. Time."  
"You mean doctor?" box teen Wind piped up."  
"The day that man is a doctor is the day he lets me file away those damned anomalous objects; besides, Dr. Malon is the only true doctor here."  
Wild snorted before turning back to Warriors. "Time to go I guess?"  
"Yessir, Doc Time and Sky are down in 4001; I'm supposed to escort you all there," Warriors answered dutifully. The scarred man nodded and turned to grab an armload of files, each in a folder and each labeled in varying languages that definitely did not make anything efficient when doing paperwork.  
They all filed out of the office and towards the entrance of the building, Warriors as the line leader and Legend happily in the back and locking the door behind them. Soon, they traveled through one of the more secret tunnels connecting the warehouse to the office building, built only because Time had a secret flare for the dramatics, and Malon was tired of talking to the crazy people who rented the building next door.  
The warehouse was clean yet dark, boarded up and filled with crates and other such things.  
There was loud squawking outside, a tad too strange to be birdlike and a tad too close for anybody's comfort.  
"Hold on a moment," Warriors told them, eyebrows drawn together. They watched as he jogged over and opened the large warehouse door, ignoring the slight metallic shriek.  
Yet he stared in horror; the cacophony of shrieking grew and grew until it shattered their eardrums. The others ran forward to see. A shadow rose across the sky, a pink mass that upon any other time would've been hilarious. A single one stared at him from the street, perched on thin metal rods as it cocked its head in curiosity.  
Warriors immediately shoved the others back as one fluttered in from the mass, right over their heads, on unsteady wings. He slammed the doors shut as the faint sound of tapping and scratching of metal sounded from the high ceiling.  
"Shit," he hissed. "Aw, shit."  
"What the hell is that?!" Legend shouted as he grabbed onto Hyrule and Wind and began pulling them away from the thing, trusting the other two to do the same. "Are those fucking lawn flamingos?!"  
The thing let out a friendly trill as Wild, whether it be from fear or sheer stupidity, threw a handful of files at it, which smacked the flamingo in the face.  
It let out an angered squawk and launched itself at the two, attempting to stab at Warrior's and Wild's faces, scratching them in its wild fury.  
Wild grabbed it and threw it to the cement floor as Warriors shrieked and began bashing it in with his gun, completely ignoring the actual use of a firearm.  
Soon, it was reduced to a twitching mess of broken plastic, legs bent as it twittered sadly. They were scratched and bleeding slightly, all staring in silence as the scratching and banging grew louder and more desperate.  
Finally Legend gained his senses. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" he shouted, hands gripping his hair as glass shattered and the creatures began trying to claw their way through the wooden boards.  
"DOESN'T MATTER, MOVE MOVE MOVE." Warriors shouted back, turning and leading the way towards the bunker door.  
He moved the grate and opened the trap door, shoving the others down the ladder. With care and an underlying sense of panic, the hatch closed. It was dark as they entered the hallway, trained lights of cameras and assumed weaponry lit it lowly as one by one they began slowly making their way through the cold bunkers, doors opening and closing and floors creaking for perhaps far too long. Warriors wrapped part of his scarf around Wind immediately, pulling him close as they approached the final door. Warriors set his gun down and glanced behind him at the cameras before punching in the passcodes to the old metal door.  
Legend and Hyrule stared in either surprise or confusion as it swung open to reveal a staircase. Wild and Wind were the first to enter. Wind was allowed to take the scarf with him, though warriors put up an arm and stopped the other two. The warehouse door banged open, and they heard more glass and crashing.  
"Drop and guns and knife."  
Hyrule was quick to pull the gun from his belt and chuck it, and a few hidden knives in various degrees of comedic lengths followed. He was then allowed to rush in.  
"There's no way in hell i'm going to--"  
"Drop the fucking gun now, I will not have some fucking SCP ruining this place and I will not hesitate to leave you to the fucking flamingos."  
Legend hesitated, but the squawking won him over, and with a growl of annoyance, he threw his own weapon down and pushed past. The security system restarted, a low beeping as several guns suddenly trained on Warriors, who slipped into the stairway and shut the door, leaving behind the sound of gunfire and the dying screams of lawn ornaments.  
They descended into the depths, a few more panicked than thinking straight. Warriors had returned to the front, squeezing past his associated Links and returned to stand beside Wind, who seemed more excited than scared. He was able to get part of his scarf back.  
They finally entered the expansive library, an older man turned his back on his computer terminal. "Congratulations," Dr. Time greeted with a rueful smile. "You have all officially reached level 4 clearance, welcome to the end of the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.scp-wiki.net/scp-1507  
> http://www.scp-wiki.net/scp-507
> 
> Alright, hallway and scarf aint real scps BUT the flamingoes are and i absolutly HAD to include them somehow because they make me laugh. I will being to include more actual scps as time goes on and am compiling a list that will help my story.  
> SCP-1507 is a group of sentient (sapient i think as well)plastic flamingoes that actually originate in Florida and kill people by puncturing them. I am not makign this up y'all and im living for its existance.  
> The hallway SCP is one that traps any sapient creature that is alone. It is inescapable and originates from an scp that is only activated by the death of a nearby sapient creature. Legend was unlucky enough to be close but its nice that he has somehow escaped.  
> As well, we're slowly building up my favorite aspect of the library which is gonna be so much fun. Im so sorry.  
> Sorry if i haven't followed the information exactly. Also yes i alluded to Marin's existence and yes i found a way to incorperate her, i'm rather proud of that fact even though i literally could've just made her a part of that town filled with rain people but whatever. If you know the story of 507 you'll have a vague guess of who Marin is ;).  
> Also I should clarify, Hyrule is 507 (cause he's a traveler haha), Wind tends to go to another dimension filled with fantasy things and bring back scps such as the origami dragons who were thought dead, Four is 4001-2 (not the one listed in the file hes *special*), Time, Warriors, and Wild are yet to be revealed and tbh I haven't figured jack out with Sky.  
> I would like to note to make things easier as i fucked up geography, theres gonna be a cheating thing im gonna do and i have to create an scp for it so just so you all know. Its bullshit and terrible but how else are we gonna get from Eygpt to Alaska to pick up our boy Twilight  
> Special thanks to my friend Fusafez for being my beta for this chapter! If you'd like, check out her stories :).  
> Anyway, stay tuned folks! I hoped you have a dandy day :D  
> -Kyle


	3. A Few Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perspective of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just shit filler because I got distracted and actually have to plan, little editing cause I panicked

They sat on a pedestal, gleaming and glittering from inside their small prison. The shadows danced around it, spinning and twirling on light feet and screaming in agony as they writhed to be free.  
But it still sat perfectly still. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Perhaps the perfect moment. Perhaps the perfect crime. It did not matter. They just wished for a purpose  
They sit so still and know they’re time is coming. How they know is a mystery to all but the highest minds.   
But too cut the cord of space is an honor and even now they know their new purpose is of a grander scheme.   
But they are two sides of a coin. A twin headed god in the form of the average. Powered by purpose yet they had lacked one and now the shadows on the twin door grows restless. The shadows are bleeding in.  
The shadows are coming for him.  
But they do not fear. The realm of death and shadows is not to be feared by their soon master. The realm shall not welcome him, no, it shall perhaps never welcome him. Never again at least. They know their master has destroyed this chance.  
And the shadows are restless, the shadow is lonely, the shadow smells death, the shadow fears for him.  
Pray tell, to the god (or gods if you’re so inclined), that the blessing of the twin doors is yours. The new master once knew them, the gods at least, and sacrificed everything for them. They return nothing but pain and perhaps joy one day.   
Old masters of door and forge, give this poor lad strength. For it be him, and his friends, and the remembered one, that are to battle by the light of night.

* * *

Wind swept through the boughs of tall trees, their fingers brushing the sky. A lone man tromped through the wood, hand brushing against mossy bark and stone as he breathed in the fresh air. Around him the forest was silent, just the wind and the lack of birds that usually sang their little hearts to the heavens. He kept his footfalls light, eyes watching as he walked down the overgrown path. Each bush snagged his clothes and brushed his skin, a warning to turn back. His phone was heavy in his pocket and he sniffled slightly, pushing onward because he had too.   
It wasn't a long walk from the house, an immediate three minute walk yet he flinched at how the thicket choked his view of the house, leaving him isolated and more alone than usual.  
But than again, its not like he's choose to turn back. He had a job to do, and he couldn't disappoint.  
An old metal hatch came into view, rusted from years of disuse. Vines choked the handles of the double doored hatch and the only new thing was the chain and padlock.   
He pulled a key ring from his pocket and crouched to unlock it, pulling off the chain and hesitating for perhaps just a moment. The forest was still silently watching. He pulled open the doors.  
Down, down, down into darkness the tunnel led, straight down with nothing but the hazy sky above to light it. The musty scent hit him like a bullet as he stuck the key ring into his pocket and pulled a flashlight out, sticking it into his mouth as he grabbed onto the metal ladder rungs and swung down, beginning his climb.  
The air felt choked but slowly the freshness of the oncoming storm sank lower with him, bringing comfort. With enough fumbling in the near dark and his increased night vision, he clicked on a light he honestly doubted should've lasted this long.  
It caste a warm glow across a simple bunker, an old metal door stood locked and alone at one end, almost hidden by boxes, tubs, and tools that were so old he assumed they'd be useless as well as the occasional strange item wrapped in fabric and leather.  
He sighed and briefly wondered who the hell he would get this shit out in the allotted time his father had given him.  
With a last glance around, he began shuffling through boxes, looking for an ounce of rope; new, old, or just vaguely string. He honestly did not care.  
Many of the boxes only contained files. Worn manila folders labeled in varying degrees of legibility in sharpie. A few were just mounds of haphazardly stapled papers with a cover page that consistently read 'FOR 05 EYES ONLY. Termination required for unauthorized access.'  
But he shrugged. Not like they would know if he read through them, but he just didn’t truly care. He knew his father wouldn’t either yet still there was that vague thought that he’d be killed for just reading them. A memetic hazard may be there.  
But he thinks on that and most information is basically memetic so he just moves on and loses himself in sorting through boxes, the mundane work a dull thrum he enjoyed.  
After a good five boxes he had a few ropes in hand and a particularly better kept tub. In it as well rested a rusting gun, some fireworks that he wouldn’t trust fifty feet away from him, and two objects wrapped in grey fabric. He grabbed the two and stuffed them in his pocket, slightly annoyed at the bulkiness of one of them but made do.   
He dragged the only palette over to the hatch easily, testing the weight for a second though was relieved as the rot of life had avoided it. The ropes were tied in an assortment of knots that surely should not have held as tightly as they did and he ascended.  
The forest was still oddly quiet, he looked about at the nothing and sighed. It was starting to grate on his ears.  
The rope was thrown amount one of the split tree trunks that had branched close to the hatch, only having a momentary fight with it. A knife, some bark, and some tree bark later he had a mostly working pulley system that he hoped would hold.   
‘Thank god for homeschool,’ he thought for a moment before descending again.   
One of the boxes had fallen over, nothing was inside but a single file. Perhaps his hurry had knocked it over, perhaps not. He picked it up. No name or designation on the file folder so he opened to the words Linked Souls Theorem written in suspicious liquid that vaguely resembled human blood (and smelled exactly like it but he was hopeful that he was wrong. He wasn’t). He blinks a moment and shuts it, stuffing it into another box as he grabbed the empty one.  
‘Empty fucks first,’ he thinks, ‘Those take up the most space. Worst comes to worse I can set this all on fire while its still allowed.’  
With a puff of certainty, he grins and begins the mindless work he appreciates, wary of the anomalies in his pockets.

* * *

There was a tentative air around the table. Nobody wished to comment or argue at this point as a sense of dread filled them.   
“So I’m guessing no arguments by the looks on your faces,” Time sighed. He shut the computer and stood, stretching as his back popped. “I’m going to be honest with you all, This isn’t going to be easy. Its gonna be hell in a half but its our job to protect the world from anomalies and by god are we gonna do that.”  
A few nodded to each other. Sky smiled encouragingly before turning back to the document in his hands to continue scanning over, Four peeking above his arm to read as well.   
The doctor smiled and looked to Time and nodded. “I can work with this. It won’t be pretty, but I’m sure I can. I’ve dealt with worse.”  
“We gonna psychoanalyze things to death now or…?” Legend trailed off with a confused gleam In his eye. “Because how we’re gonna pull this off was less explained and more Dr. Sky’s gonna bullshit some stuff while me and old man over here grab some, and a quote ‘anomalous object for Four to use.’ because this sounds unplanned and a lot worse than usual.”  
Time smiled at him, a gleam in his eye, “Oh ye of little faith, unplanned bullshit is my middle name. You gotta have patience and wit about you if you’re gonna survive this war.”  
“War? What war? I’m still confused on what's actually happening.” Warriors piped up from his seat beside Wind. “I mean no offense sir, I understand what we have to do, but why?”  
“There’s a god we have to kill, Warriors. There’s a god that has tried to destroy the entire human race and we’re the only ones still standing.”  
There was a pause before an uproar, “We cant kill a god!” “Oh hell yeah!” “Who said anything about gods.” “Time, we can’t!” and much much more.  
Time held up a hand for quiet as Four stood and placed his hands on the table. He gave them a strange look and said “We have to. We live on this earth dammit, and like hell I’m going to sit back and watch someone else besides us burn it to the ground. You’ve known some bad shit is here. Just cause you now know it’s a god doesn’t mean jack. You’re the fucking foundation, y’all eat this shit for breakfast.”  
Nobody spoke up after, each thinking on it before giving a nod to Time while Legend grumbled that this wasn’t in his payroll and Wind pointed out he doesn’t have a payroll.   
“Alright than, you know your teams, you know your jobs. We have three days to get this shit done. Tight schedule. Lets do this shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is short! Life caught up and I got super distracted. I promise to try better in the future  
> I'm working on three LU fics now and that's just been a thing, though I think I have it planned? maybe?  
> No new SCPs, or official SCPs. I have made one for this, and Four's origin? gonna come into play.  
> The first part of this was just me writing and having fun, ngl. Second part is setting up Twilight's side of stuff. Third? Setting up for next chap.  
> Also, uh, so we may or may not have shadow coming into this. BUT HERE'S WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN. There's gonna be a chapter coming up that's already written that's in a strange style, very different to my usual bullshit. And its gonna be bringing in shit that's unintentional and originally from a completely different writing prompt. Its gonna involve some weird mental stuff. I'm excited but our poor boys are gonna suffer.
> 
> I hope you have a dandy day!  
> -Kyle (or Cherry!)


	4. Whispers We Don't Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legend and Time retrieve a few anomalies, running into a few issues as Legend ponders thoughts of his shitty existence and perhaps hears a few thoughts that aren't his own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Small bit of gore and some very angry self destructive thoughts (not from Legend. You'll see). This chapters a good bit longer than the last few so enjoy!

Silent halls. Silent walls. Everything was just oh so silent  
For as long as Legend has been “employed” in the foundation, the site had always been a hubbub of people, sirens, and nightmares that go bump and scream in the night. The ticking of anomalies and the shouts of alarm as some employee or another broke the absurd rules that kept them safe.  
He missed the unfamiliar faces. Nobody could stay employed in this place besides the names written on the strange list that Dr. Time kept pinned to his clipboard. Everyone who was anyone wanted on that list. The list meant safety. The list meant you would make it to the end of the week. But the list never changed and he wasn’t so glad he was on the list.  
But in the end, the list meant he was safe. He had read it time and time again since he had began working for this particular site, proud that he was on it.  
And Legend remembered every name on that list and it occurred to him that it wasn’t so much of a safety precaution as it was a death warrant.  
Those who had not made it were gone, every name on there still alive and kicking but the rest of the world lost to the will of a pissed off motherfucker, leaving only silence in their place and in the long, long years which Legend had worked there, for the first time, he missed those assholes.  
The people, the calls, the security team rushing downstairs when some normal citizen entered there instead of the laundry mat next door. The shouts at the printer that always takes to long to print something and the angry shouts that came from certain containment units.  
He leaned in the hallway, in the deafening silence, back against the cool painted plaster as he watched Time rifle through one of the storage lockers through an open door.  
They didn’t dare close it. That would activate an anomaly he did not want to meet again.  
The old doctor threw files into the corner of the room; old, manila, and once neatly organized by Legend himself until he stopped and drew out a lone key card that had definitely not been there before. It was meant for one of the few actual containment units that were actually up to the code enforced by the foundation.   
Usually they just used storage lockers that they had bought online because honestly the triggers for most anomalies were so complex its insane.  
With a sigh the doctor straightens and turn back to smile at him. “Ready to find out the weird shit we’ve been keeping from the council?” He asked as Legend raised an eyebrow.  
He’d always been suspicious of just that. Hell, everybody had been. Dr. Time was notoriously strange and secretive about the anomalies the site contained. _Especially_ with the anomalies everyone knew weren’t registered with the foundation.  
“Ready as I’ll be.”  
With assurance that they’d both probably never again wield. They set off down three floors and into the first, and only, floor of the basement.  
It was a creepy place, almost too dark to have been illuminated like Legend knew it was. Doors led to hallways to mazes perhaps meant to confuse those trying to enter the containment units. Or perhaps exit. Legend never liked it, the floors were to loud when you walked on them and there was no comfort in the forms of furniture. Or, now, people.  
Dr. Time had drawn up the entirety of the floor plans, as if he knew exactly what would be contained before the items had even be found. As if he knew exactly what he needed to contain so they couldn’t escape for this very moment.  
But that’s ludicrous. Fucking insane! Dr. Time’s just that strange asshole whose married to Legend’s boss.  
…Right?  
Legend shook the thought from his head, it wouldn’t matter anyway. He’d known stranger and if this led close to him having the world back to its shitty self, than he had to deal with this weird shit.  
Time led him through the twisting halls, door after door opened and closed as he kept close to the doctor, a bat in hand just in case, stolen from a researcher’s office and definitely not allowed on property.  
Finally, after what felt like hours, the hallways stopped splitting and they reached a dead end, two twin doors facing each other, unlabeled, unchecked, and with an air of hesitance and fear around one of them  
Time opened the door to the right, the little lock beeping with a happy jingle as the door unlocked. The door handle, years of disuse evident, had to be jiggled for a bit before Time used his shoulder to open it, stumbling in. The room was small, just a cardboard box with a mirror nestled in bubble wrap, like a baby bird, was contained inside.  
And Time, the momma bird, plucked it right up as it was placed in Legends unawaiting arms.   
Legend stumbled back, it was heavier that one would expect. Two by three with a curling silver trim and a grimy reflection.  
Just looking at the thing made him anxious, like it whispered for him to throw it away, destroy it, watch the shards rain down onto the ground and dance on them in joy.   
In its surface was a small chink, marring its perfect disgusting grime. It was too perfect though, like a keyhole, if the key wasn’t key shaped and instead rectangle shaped and now that he thinks about it its not key shaped in the fucking slightest.  
But Time brushed past to the other door like this creepy mirror was no big deal.  
“So uh, what's this thing exactly?” Legend piped up, trying to break the pounding silence and whispering thoughts apart before they began to sprout leaves of doubt.  
Time was silent for a moment as if he hadn’t heard before responding, “Well, its from the library, just some random thing that the old keeper had stored down there. Its pared with this.”  
The door was shoved open and on a pedestal, or rather a tall table looked like it was picked up from Ikea, was a pair of pure metal scissors, more shear like than anything. It gleamed in the small overhead light that Time flicked on.   
From his pocket he pulled out a handkerchief and grabbed the scissors. They were too small to be used by him, meant for a child maybe, though what child would want this pair was beyond him.  
“Weird pair, scissors and a mirror,” Legend snorted. There was a disconnect between the two, the airs surrounding them different in tone. While the mirror made him anxious with the need to destroy it, the scissors simply existed, nothing more, nothing less besides the strange want to give them to someone, someone who could use them but that’s probably the need to get this show on the road more than anything else.  
“Apparently. There are two pairs of scissors, and this mirror. Hmmm, technically we only need the scissors but see this here?” He held up the scissors and showed off the junction of the blades, a jewel sat in it, the thing had a smokey fog that he didn’t notice before. “Its supposed to be silver but the keeper did something on accident with the mirror, and said we can’t break it.”  
A look was sent his way, a warning. Don’t break it. Simple instructions that his mind screamed against.  
There weren’t many trusted people close to Time, just that list and the few people not on it. Malon, the old keeper 4001-1, and the shop keeper that was down in the town who liked to give him free sandwiches because Time made sure the local band of thieves aka Wild and Wind didn’t steal them (or the rumors say so).   
Legend knew that Time listened to what they said and followed any advice they’d give if he thought it serious enough. A pure, simple instruction to not destroy something? Time would uphold it more than his life.  
So, Legend kept the mirror hugged to his chest and the scissors in his back pocket. Time continued to lead him and a small whisper tugged the edges of his hearing. Arguing, yelling, _crying, hoping, freedom, let him go please, destroy it now._ Legend tried to mention it but a look from Time had him grumbling that it was nothing. He knew it was there too.   
There’s no protecting anyone anymore, no securing anything, no containing it. Legend realized how utterly fucked they are. No armies to back him up. No guns, no guards. No, not this time.  
So they continued down the halls, arms brushing until they stopped at a door. The jingle, and a screech and they paused.  
Legend’s eyes widened and he glanced over. The creature that had come back with Hyrule was there. Present and oh so angry. A screech ripped from its throat as it pulled itself forward on mashed limbs. A mouth threw itself open and teeth, hundreds of moving teeth faced them as its broken legs tensed and it sprung forward, straight at the doctor.  
Time let out a shout and grabbed the bat from the crook of Legend’s arm. He wasn’t as fast as he used to be, but it was enough, just enough to block the teeth and knock it back a few feet due to its own momentum.   
“ _RUN_ ” he shouted, using his shoulder to shove Legend, almost making him fall and shatter the mirror.   
Through it, come on! Throw the fucking mirror I don’t want him to join me here!  
He took off in a dead sprint as he heard the screeching again and turned back, Time was clutching the bat, a foot on the beast’s jaw as he used the bat to crush the thing’s already shattered skull before he opened the door and slipped inside.  
It jumped at the metal, ignoring Legend as its jaw flopped back and teeth somehow buried in the door.   
Legend didn’t dare turn to run back, puffs of breath as he kicked open a wooden door and ran into another hall, slowly growing tired as he ran and ran.  
Bland halls and he knew he was lost.  
The screeches echoed, quieter now as he stumbled, somehow, in the main room with the stairs leading upward. He sucked in a breath and looked around, surprised that the halls finally ended. In an emptying feeling of the adrenaline leaving, for a moment, he realized he hadn’t entered a loop even though he was alone.  
He’s supposed to be alone.  
Why had it not activated?  
_Please remember me you fucker! I’m here! Please, let me remember him plEASE I CAN’T WHY CAN’T I_  
He stared around a moment. He’s alone, just him, the mirror, the scissors and the screeches of the monster that suddenly… stopped.  
_No no no NO DON’T STOP HELP ME REMEMBER HIM YOU DICK_  
A door slammed open and Time entered the room, breathing heavily as he threw down the creature that took in gasping breaths as well. A flutter of pity floated through him but it was shut down when Legend spotted the large rips in one of Time’s pant legs, the boots he whore underneath the dress pants very clear now in all their glory. The bat which was now splintered in half was thrown at it. The breathing stopped.  
Legend stared at it with a scowl and Time didn’t speak as he moved something into his pocket. He turned and gave Legend a look and said, “Its not a good idea to be alone here anymore, lets go back. There’s nothing more here.”  
Legend took in a breath, “Actually, there is something I need to grab. Upstairs, my room. I need it.”  
He gave a look, ready to argue his point but Time only looked at him with a certain sort of pity he didn’t quite understand. Though, a second glance and it wasn’t that. Not pity. No, he had to remind himself, no, Dr. Time never looked at someone, even someone dying with pity.   
Just understanding.  
And for some reason he was glad.  
_You’ve forgotten like me already, haven’t you, Pinkie?_  
He led the way upstairs, the fourth floor, jokingly called the neighborhood. Worn carpet perhaps a millions footsteps, lives that had been there one day and gone the next and in some cases back again. There were a few potted plants he couldn’t help but smile at, Dr. Malon’s insistence to get some goddamned life in that place. She was the mom of the facilities, and to everyone on the list.  
He’s so glad he’s on the list.  
Room 424 was opened without a key. Legend wasn’t allowed one but there was a deadbolt he had secretly added if he needed to keep safe. Time entered as well with a strange practiced ease, like he knew this space.   
But it didn’t matter.   
Legend motioned to the bedside drawer, “Grab the journal. Its black. Don’t look inside.”  
Time nodded and did just so. He put it in his own pant pocket carefully and nodded for them to go. Legend took one last look around. Blank bed still unmade, small dresser that contained the same uniform over and over again still there. A few photos tacked to the wall in a futile attempt to make the place home, but he knew deep in his heart it never would be. She would always be home.  
Time tapped him on the shoulder and he jolted from memories of a sweet smile that looked at him like he was the world, so perfectly imperfect.   
“Sorry, sorry,” he cleared his throat, “Lets just go. You still heading to the shops with Soldier Boy and Teleporter?”  
“Yeah, we can take the alleys and underground tunnels, shouldn’t be too hard. We need you to stay back though, no offense to the kids, they both can handle their own, but I’d feel better if someone non baby faced was there.” Time said. He checked around a corner and into the stairwell before they both began descending.   
Legend snorted, “Yeah. What's the deal with that anyway? I mean, Wind’s what, fifteen? Four’s like eight?”  
“Try two thousand and about forty eight, give or take our own take on the calendar was correct.”  
“Shit, maybe I need to check those files one in a while. Just… Jesus Christ, dude.”  
“By Jove actually,” Time said, paused to check the hallway again before continuing to one of the tunnels. “But still. Wind’s well, don’t tell the foundation, but Wind’s supposed to be classified as an SCP. Warriors asked me to make sure he isn’t but to still watch him so we, well, we took him in as a junior researcher at the ripe old age of fifteen. Been here since for a good year.”  
Down the hall, quicker as Legend pondered. “Just… How many things are you harboring here? Like, undocumented?”  
A chuckle, they entered the tunnel. “If I’m gonna be honest, you and Hyrule are the only ones that are legit documented in our little group, and well, I don’t think Four counts in this.”  
Legend stopped to stare.  
“I… You mean we all… What the FUCK TIME. YOU CAN’t JUST. I. FUCKING CHRIST!”  
Time looked to him with a strained smile, “Legend, I don’t think you quite understand what we all are.”  
“Well than old man, what? What could we possibly FUCKING be?!” He didn’t care for his rising voice until they heard a scratching from the room they were crawling under. He stopped, and the scratching stopped, and they continued.  
Time looked like he had aged a few years. “Sometimes, we aren’t all normal Legend. You think you’re the only one here with goddamned anomalous shit happening? We aren’t normal. And its that exact fucking reason that we’re the ones doing this. You accept killing a god but not this?”  
Legend didn’t respond.  
He could kill a god, hell, that’s normal for him! So. Fucking. Normal. He’s used to that crazy, hell, sometimes he thinks that its just him that’s crazy.  
_pain, pain, more pain, I’ve forgotten again haven’t I, Pinkie? Smash the mirror, please, I can’t remember who I was fighting for_  
But… There’s something holding him back from believing that the man before him can claim that he’s a fucking anomaly just like him. That Wind, the sweet little kid that sometimes grates on his nerves, that pretty boy Warriors who doesn’t fucking hesitate to kill an anomaly, that fucking Dr. Sky were just as fucking crazy as him!  
He can’t. For years, for fucking years he knows he’s been alone in this shit, poked and prodded and forced into living in this hell  
But there’s… something in the hunched stature of Time that betrays the usual mischievous and secretive look. He’s tired. Just like him.  
Hiding in plain sight, like he’d failed to do.  
Legend sighs in a dying sense of acceptance, “I guess its just one more crazy thing to happen.”  
_Wait wait wait waitwaitwaitwait why haven’t you broken it yet?! Break is we’re to close to him it’LL JUST TAKE HIM TO PLEASE DON’T_  
They continued on in silence, the mirror still whispering and calling until they exited into the warehouse, crouching behind crates as they saw Sky exit the bunker right on time. Flamingos tense and stared at him. He held up his hands, mouth moving as he spoke to softly for them to hear. Slowly they watched as he moved out to the front door. A few more figures made they appearance and slipped behind more crates. A scarf and a flash of an orange jumpsuit.   
Time nodded to Legend and they moved, pushing themselves perhaps faster than they’ve ever both run, the innate terror of flamingos pushing them forward.  
Legend ducked and started to climb into the bunker and Time continued to the two other men.   
Down below Legend was once again aware of how silent and alone he was. The mirror still dug into his arms as he shifted it and began walking on through. The system had been disabled, the codes in all of their memories.  
He was supposed to reactivate it, though the guns trained on him were all to familiar and he didn't like it, perhaps a past life he thought with a grimace, perhaps just a past life.  
_Don’t forget too! Please please please break it please juST FUCKING KILL ME END THE MIRROR YOU SELFISH ASS_  
He ran through it and the propped open door was shut behind him. He descended carefully, breathing heavier than ever and the mirror felt like several bars of lead.  
Strange as the scissors felt lighter, almost like he had never received them. A thought struck his mind, they didn’t belong to him.  
Strange but alright.  
They wouldn’t be staying with him anyway, he thought with a bitter tone to the thought, hold your fucking horses.  
He entered the library and was struck with just how warm it was, the light of lamps casting illumination across books, varying levels of warmth of both the library made and the foundation made mixing in a futile attempt to light the impossibly high ceiling. The undertones of scuttling were perhaps just a bit unsettling, a few items moving in the peripheries of his vision.   
They resettled and he moved on, smiling slightly. Perched on one of the couches sat Four, in all his tiny glory, messing with the golden necklace that hung around his neck.   
“Oi! Got a special delivery!” He called over with a smirk as Four shot up and smiled back.  
_Its him! Its him he’s here he’s sAFE HE’S HERE SMASH IT PLEASE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE_  
He helped set up the mirror and his eyes widened. He took the scissors with such reverence that Legend almost felt bad for them being warmed by his ass for so long.  
Four hummed for a second, “Strange, they’re connected to the mirror. That’s… huh….”  
“And that’s a bad thing?” Legend raised an eyebrow as he looked harder into it, trying to wipe away the grime.   
“I don’t know, maybe. I was never allowed near this thing.” Four hummed in thought as Legend paused at the weird chink in the mirror’s surface.  
“Hey, this is gonna be a strange thought…” Legend started

* * *

Wind groaned in boredom as he laid on the couch, shifting slightly to huff in annoyance, nursing a plastic water bottle in his hands, a sippy cup lid on it to prevent spilling.  
He couldn’t believe they were forcing him to stay back. I mean come on! He can help out there! He knows for damned sure that Hyrule isn’t even able to read the local dialect. Completely unfair.  
He huffed again and glanced over the couch, eyes widening as the cup clattered to the floor.  
He grabbed the walkie-talkie from the floor in a scramble.  
“GET BACK HERE NOW, WEIRD SHITS GOING DOWN.”  
A howl ripped through the library and a gust of wind sent him stumbling back as something exited the mirror. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its longer! And in a different style kinda! Yay!  
> Anyway, fun chapter next time. Its... different and i'm proud of it, its going up very soon after this. Shadow's here! or... kind of. You'll see ;(. Next chapter is gonna be out super soon though.  
> As well, drawing from mythology? hell yeah! I actually have an excuse because of Four.  
> I'm also gonna admit, a lot of this story was planned after the first chapter, so i may go back and rewrite those in a bit.  
> The scirrors were originally gonna be literal kiddie scissors but i realised those wouldn't make sense coming from Julius Caesar's time so uh, yeah that didn't happen. Anyway, I'm proud to introduce my amazingly terrible plot device, the Scissors of Janus!  
> Thank my Latin teacher for the idea about the mirror, even though he unknowingly gave it to me.  
> Also thank you for the knowledge of how Roman bathhouses work, gonna make jokes about that probably.  
> Marin? She may not show up but i sure as hell will mention her. I'm proud of being able to incorporate her!  
> Thank y'all so much for commenting! Always makes my day. Sorry if i don't respond :' ). My accounts only logged onto one account with a glitchy connection and i usually do stuff as a guest. I appreciate every one of them, y'all are so amazing it hurts.
> 
> I hope you all have a trully dandy day.  
> -Cherry


	5. On the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two gay romans and a disaster bisexual face estistential dread for a good 1830 words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mental fuckups, memory issues, blood, panic (not really attacks, more ongoing sense of peril and the fact that Four needs a break and im not going to go with that)  
> And we're right back it again with the under 2000 word chapters. it was a nice change of pace to write a longer one. We're gonna try that again soon, one day. today? not that day

There has always been a pull. The back of his mind whispering for something unknown. Below a sense of scent and smell, below sight and perhaps below life. There has always been a pull, a sense of longing for comfort, for laughter, for the dull thrum he does not remember. Life his mind whispers, but this cannot be right. This home is his life. How can he miss it when he is here?  
It's breath is held as he walks through the hall, the mirror that always sits perched on the wall casting the same tired look back at him. Its muddy and fogged and he can barely see the shadows crawling down his face. He tries to touch it, to rub away the strange murky red stain that always seems to cover it, but he stops himself. He always stops himself. Its not there.  
He'd never had that heart to throw it out, the old think belonging to his late...  
His...  
 _He doesn't own the mirror. Nobody owns the fucking mirror._  
He blinks, and shoots himself a reassuring smile that looks strangely like a terrified scream in the reflection. He laughs, of course he doesn't remember who it belongs to!  
He doesn't remember much, truth to be told. Just enough to live in the strange old home. Just enough to walk down the hall and listen to the frantic scratching behind the only door, the soft cries and whispers he cannot understand but does not care. The door locks on the other side.   
He knows this.  
He remembers this.  
What does he remember?  
He turns back and walks to the living room. He forgets the mirror. He forgets he's forgotten. He always does.  
There’s pictures on the walls and glazed blue eyes don't see them. Each face smiling as he passes. Pictures upon pictures upon pictures, a furious chance, a forgotten hope, a battle, a nothing.  
A boy with blonde hair, holding something in triumph as the man laughs next to him, clutching the something as well. A beautiful lady smiles in most of them, a smile far far away. Its a perfect smile. Warm. Loving. Begging. Crying screaming callinghurting _dyinghoping h e l p_  
He blinks. He does not remember. He never does.  
There’s a shadow on the couch, tired eyes and tired hair and a tired frame that droops like the stagnant pendulum of the grandfather clock that hangs above the TV. It makes no sound, but the shadow breathes slightly, glancing to him from a mess of muddy hair.  
They do not speak. There is no point. Just a glance of reassurance that someone knows who they are and that God, by God they aren’t going crazy. They can't sleep, the food is dust and they can't speak. Why can't they speak why can't they know where is his body wheRE IS HE GIVE HIM BA  
They forget the other is there and sit and stare at the tv that nobody bought. The mirror glares the tv static back at them from the hallway they never go down because there is no hallway. Why would there be a hallway?  
There is no hallway. The door there is locked, locked from the inside! They're sure! It must be.   
Locked by someone who gave up trying to forget, someone who lost something. Someone whose sobs echo back and its the only way they can remember that the hallway is there. Since when was there a hallway? Since when was there a door?  
But they sit on the couch that's far too worn and the cat that nobody owns sits and stares at them with eyes perhaps too human and perhaps with just a glittering hope of hunger. It makes no sound. It makes no move. It stands frozen in time except for the tail that curls. Brown fur is matted, torn with chunks that lay on the ground. Skin in chunks by the door. Flesh in chunks buried beneath their nails.  
The shadow throws it a chip and leaves it to do nothing.   
There is no cat there. This is their home. They never bought a cat. Why would there be one?  
One what?  
Just.  
 _Nothing._  
The shadow laughs at the nothing on the TV and the man doesn't find it funny because the shadow says his humor is fucked. The man cries at the nothing at the tv and the shadow pats his arm and affectionately calls him a baby because there are maybe tears in his eyes as well but he won’t admit that he’s crying for reasons he cannot tell. The man couldn’t tell if he was crying anyway. They mix in with everything else and it makes the shadow wonder why he’s hiding it.   
They are friends though, he and the shadow and the…  
They are friends. They’ve been here to long to be anything else.  
The boy's sobs grow louder because they forgot and he knows they forgot.  
But it does not matter.  
The man says he wonders how the weather will be like and the shadow says to check out the window like a normal person, Pinkie. Neither do. There is no window. Only the hall and mirror. There is nothing else. So they sit and stare until the man sees a picture and he notices. The love of his life, smiling brightly at him.  
The mirror promises she will visit soon but the man does not hear. Nobody hears. At least, those with ears mind you. Those with ears all but hear the static and the cries and the shouts from the other side of the reflecting pool that hangs on the wall. The door shakes in its hinges and the boy lets out earth shattering screeches and sobs for God knows what.   
But they do not care.  
They cannot care.  
They do not remember what to care about.  
But...  
The man cares.  
The banging turns into just screams. Pain. Anguish. Who could be so hurt in this home? The man springs up with an anger twisting in his face, blue eyes angry at the noises, not the boy. He barely knows the boy… but he’s known him for years. He jumps over the side of the couch and rushes to the door. He does not see the mirror. There is no mirror. No mirror he remembers.   
But the mirror cracks.  
He turns the handle and the door unlocks but it does not open. The door unlocks. The door does not budge. The door does not lock from the inside. _It never has._  
There’s scratching on the door but the boy has not heard him and the man's anger melts to sorrow to desperation because he remembers whose in there and he remembers and he knows and he feels everything and he despises it.  
They’re not supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to be here. He can’t be here because that’s not how it fucking works he should know how he fucking works _why isn’t this damned curse working._  
With shouts and calls to the other person, his nails bleed as they crack and he scratches at the door, ramming his shoulder into it and falling to his knees, banging against it with a fist as the hinges scream and the boy knows he's there and pounds on the door in return. He screams and sobs because that’s his friend in there. That's his friend and he remembers and how dare you take his friend give him back take us back pleASE HE REME _MBERS GIVE HIM BA_  
The shadow looks over the couch at him with a tired confused look. The TV is still static. The shadow says the weather channel claims its going to be nice weather, there’s no need to look out a window. There should be that movie he's been wanting to see on soon.  
The man smiles and says that's wonderful, she will love the nice weather when she visits.   
He walks away. The mirror looks back at the couch. There is no sound behind it as the shadow turns up the static because he can't hear all that well and it has nothing to do with the slow pool staining the couch but they don't remember because they don't know.   
There are sobs on the other side of the door. The lock clicks from the outside. The door wouldn't open anyway. The door locks from the inside after all. It always has.  
There is no use struggling.  
What struggling?  
The man doesn't remember.   
The man smiles because he doesn't remember. He wipes his eyes because he didn't know he started crying and it must be because he's so excited for when his love visits. He doesn't notice the smearing across his cheeks or the biting pain in his hands. He reaches into the bag of chips the shadow found and comments that they taste stale and slightly off.  
The shadow shrugs. He'll put it on the shopping list.  
The one he lost, the man thinks. He will have to find it again. They never do though. They lose a lot of things. Food, clothes, that cat, keys, lists, lists of lists, pens, friends, bodies, lists, lists, mirrors, lists lists lists lists why’s it always lists _its just lists the lists are freedom make a lis_  
He's tired of lists.   
But he does not remember.  
He's just tired. That’s why he doesn't remember, he assures himself. But he does not dare fall asleep and he does not know why. The pull keeps him awake. But he does not follow.  
The mirror stares back at their heads, the doorknob is reflected and it shudders as desperation clings to it and the young boy struggles to open it because he was so close they were so close he could almost hear them but he can't hear anything. He sobs and sobs and screams until his voice is hoarse but he doesn't know this and the static is too loud. His shadow doesn't remember and his friend only glances and wonders what’s behind the door before he forgets because there is no door and there is no hall and there is no mirror and the chip bag lays forgotten on the floor and they laugh at nothing.   
There’s a strange pull in the back of his head but he doesn't remember it being there. It has always been there, hasn't it?   
He knows but does not think nor remember because he thinks he does not need too. But that thought nags and nags like an old friend. And he thinks. And he ponders. And he begins to hope he can remember. He’s on the list after all. Remember the list. You have to remember the damned list. _Remember them, Legend, you can do it, dammit!_  
Bit by bit, there’s a chink in the mirror from where the pounding knocked it askew. Behind it is home. But here is home as well. And bit by bit, tiny dulled shard after tiny dulled shard, their world _cracks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't originally part of the fic, actually it was for a small challenge thing and I decided I could connect it. That this competition for the entirety of Shadow ever actually showing up. The mirror? Was never gonna exist. The scissors? they were gonna grab em and yeet over to Alaska. Thank the competition for this bullshit.  
> I've used remember 19 times, door 19 times, mirror 15 times as well as because and shadow, lists 13 times and man as well, sobs 7 times as well as tiredm abd remembers 5 times and i think that sums up this chapter pretty well.  
> Anyway, Shadow's here! yay! Twilight should be coming in fully soon and slowly but surely we reveal all the boys' anomolous properties. I have changed wind's from what it was going to be originally because i realised, huh, thats to similar to Hyrule!  
> Originally, he was going to be able to spontantiously travel to a specific alternate dimension where he had pirate adventures. But thats basic. Thats easy. nothing is going to be easy when a bunch of hooligans go to fight a god.  
> Anyway, the next chapter will be out in a little bit, im going to be working on my other three fics cause I've promised Four pretending to be a girl and by JOVE I will have Four pranking the fuck out of these guys
> 
> I hope you have a day!   
> -Cherry


	6. And A Shattering Shall Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has come from the mirror, questionable in purpose so the boys do what they do best.   
> Inside the mirror... they're still doing their best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: rot, gore, and a terrible attempt at a fight scene. Minor character death, decapitation, fucked past and present tense  
> To the person who said they think the mirror shattering is a good thing, you’re right but at the same time so wrong. You’re the reason Shadow isn’t completely gone <3  
> I’m sorry. I’ve also never written a legitimate fight scene. Here’s my attempt
> 
> Heavens above, we hate repercussions in this household.

The thing wasn't as large and encompassing as the usual shit Time was used to dealing with.  
Visceral rot hung off it, the entire body a singular eyeball that hung suspended in the air, near the library's carpeted floor. Its broken pupil stared directly at Time in an acute recognition he sadly understood, Time himself stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs.  
It took in a ragged breath, allowing two wings to span from behind it, which beat in time to strong gusts of wind that rushed from nowhere. Nothing more than skin stretched dangerously thin over veins and bones that snapped and crunched with each movement.  
Time swung himself over the stair railing, Warriors rushed down behind him with Hyrule and Wild at his heels and a gun in the SCP's hand. Time almost screamed at him to drop the damned thing; he stopped and gasped in shock. His side stung with an acute pain, something slicing through the stupid mandated lab coat and his skin and flesh. He pressed a hand to his side and drew it up. Blood dripped down slightly and he let out a grunt of mild annoyance.  
He'd dealt with worse.  
He looked around him to see what hit him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. A couch sliced clean through behind him, slowly being repaired. Books were being disheveled in mass by the hundreds. He smiles slightly despite the pain. He may not have been able to see them but he loved those tiny friends of Four.  
Saving the entirety of humanity in one fell swoop.  
Three shots rang out, Hyrule had reached the bottom of the stairs. Rubber bullets, Time thinks. He wondered if it would be enough.  
The creature let out a shattering screech, one mixed with sobs of searing agony. Another beat of its wings, more cracks rang through the air, and Time could see the splinters of bones beginning to protrude from the useless skin. More screams and he sighed and gritted his teeth.  
Time rushed to one of the terminals, shoving the entirety of the expensive machinery to the floor. He flipped the table to its side and ripped a bat that was latched to the underside.  
"Wind! Four!" He shouted, voice mingling with the screams. Wind scrambled from behind a sliced couch and dove behind it and sucking in a shaking breath. Warriors shoved Wild onto him, bloody and staring wide eyed at the creature. He was barely breathing, but they didn't have time for that. He was alive. That’s what counted.  
A bookshelf cracked in half. The books were already gone and Time noticed the ones clutched in Wild's arms and the one clutched in Wind's. He wondered where his second one was. Time desperately hoped the minish did not have it, adorable little bastards would try to reshelf it probably.  
Time stood, leaning heavily on the table as he whipped his head around. Hyrule was continuing to take shots at the creature. Warriors had tasked himself with distracting it.  
He couldn't see Four. He couldn't see Legend either.  
Wind had seen the look on his face, he tugged his pants for attention and whispered, "The mirror. Legend and Four went into the fucking mirror."  
Time looked at the mirror behind the beast. With the knowledge he had, it didn't take a genius to figure out where it had come from.  
The mirror was not perfect anymore. Small cracks had formed from the center, spidering out into large chunks.  
A reminder from a friend sounded off in his head as he stared. Don't let it shatter.  
And that’s all it took to set him off.  
With a battle cry more fitting a cheap action movie, he charged. Attention was now on him. Attacks were now focused on him. He can hear it as another round of what could only be wind rushed toward him, visible with the dust and shards of broken wood. Time dived and Hyrule cried. He ignored it and continued.  
Warriors can protect them. It's his job, after all.  
He was running one moment and swinging the bat in the next. Wood connected with the broken bones and he heard a disgusting squelch as the bat tore flesh away from the joint he hit between body and wing.  
The eye shot to look at him. He spun, ignoring the skin and few muscles the beast had that stuck to the bat and the bat landed in its eye. It screeched. Multiple shots rung out and something trickled onto Time's hands. Cold.  
He didn't know why it made him pause. It had been years since he felt something like that. If he had been honest with himself, it's a feeling he would have hoped to forget.  
He brought the bat back again. More shots. He swung and the eye seemed to rupture. Liquid rot, congealed from god knows how long, splashed to the ground and across Time's clothes.  
He gagged and stumbled back in shock.   
The wings curled around the eye and something started squirming beneath like it was a rotting cocoon. His eyes tracked as something flailed beneath the thin membrane.  
Those that had come up to face it backed up in wariness, Hyrule's aim rapidly changed, pinpointed at the vague head area, than the something, than Warriors who had shifted, than the thing. He didn't know the weak spots, unfamiliar with this creature. Time could sympathize.  
Time didn't even know if this was an enemy.  
Snaps were heard and the form seemed to constrict, compressing smaller and smaller until. The flesh slopped to the floor. Clothes of sinew and flesh. Time blinked. A child?  
It launched itself at Time.  
His head slammed into the hard floor, it was on top of Time. Blood dripped onto his face, running in freezing streams. A hand squeezed his throat, nails dug into flesh, sparks of darkness danced in his vision.  
He's folded just so. He doesn't think as his boot connected with the boy's chest. An audible crunch and a scream entered one ear, out the other. The boy is flung back.  
Blue entered his vision, blurred and tinged in encompassing dark and he was dragged to his feet. The world spun and he gasped at stagnant air. There was a shot, another, and a final. Air ringing. Silence. More screams. The world tilted back into focus and Hyrule flew past him and the air moved. Swirling, swirling, swirling. It surrounded the boy who still just sobbed and growled. He had yet to speak to them. Perhaps he lost the ability.  
Something shattered behind him and Time grabbed the blue, Warriors, steadying both of them before he could have rush off.  
"Protect the mirror," he rasped before using his failing legs as momentum to push himself again into the fray.  
The air cut into him, thinly veiled knives, a million razors. Blood splattered the once perfectly clean ground.  
The boy's wide eye stared back at him, the other gouged out. A mirror to Time's own. A scar, nasty and betraying. But there’s anger in this child. Fear perhaps.  
Time knows the look.  
The wide eyes of a child ripped from his arms as he screamed and was forced to forget. A child taken from his arms as he did nothing. A child he feared he'd lose forever. A child he knew he'd get back.  
He faced a child now, a foot on the ground to steady himself. He wondered how much Four had missed him. He wondered how much Four had prayed to get him back.  
He launched himself forward and grabbed the child from where it hovered. There was a boot shaped cavity in its rotten chest, ribs poking through and he could still see his heart beating. The child was still breathing.  
This child was alive. It almost hurt in a way, he'd forgotten that he can't help them.  
His hand held the child's jaw, straining his head to look at the titles of a million lives and Time pounded his fist into the delicate neck.  
He choked, coughed and thrashed, an eye looking back at Time, begging him for help, begging him for life. Time crashed to the side and blood pooled from his side. A blade of wind dissipated. A shot was heard, then another; the stream continued. One of the few books the minish had not grabbed was destroyed as well, Warriors bringing its side down into the boy's other eye as it was shot through by Hyrule.  
Time's vision turned into murky water, his head pounding like a smith at an anvil, and it's almost as if he can hear an angered scream. It's not coming from the boy though. It's coming from the library.  
A life has been destroyed. A life, the past of it and the future, has ceased to exist completely.  
They shook their heads' clear, wiped blood from their noses and continued a brutal assault. Another shard shattered on the ground, and something slammed into the floor. Time ignored it.  
Hyrule was on the boy, a gun in hand and a feral gleam of sheer panic in his eyes. He's out of bullets. He's not out of gun.  
A crunch. Another squelch. The barrel was covered in rot and the boy was barely twitched.  
Warriors gave the child's head a kick. His boot went through the skull. Another crunch and Time fought the need to gag.  
Wind showed up in his vision as he struggled to stand. Wild's knife, the one Time knew he kept in his pocket just in case it came for him, was in his hand. He swung like he had done this a million times before. He swung and the sobs stopped.  
The head rolled away, far easier than it should have.  
Silence.  
It was too quiet.  
There was too much silence as Time let himself breathe before he sat up. His sides stung and his head pounded. And he looked to the mirror.

* * *

The shadow was the one to notice. The crackling of glass. The corners of the room that fell away into nothing. He couldn't see it. He can never see it but it's there. Nothing, truly and wholly nothing that is oh so familiar to him.  
But the shadow noticed. So he screamed.  
The scream ripped the man away from the TV static, and the man shouted as he was grabbed, long nails dug into his arms as he was hauled over the side of the couch.  
The couch itself had begun to chip away; shards fell as did the shards threatening to fall from the mirror.  
Small pieces began to rain down. A large one fell first. It shattered against the ground, the shards disappearing as did the room.  
The VCR’s alarm went off, the countdown flashing red. There hadn't been a VCR there. But it was here now. It made him remember it existed, so it had to be there.  
But to hell if the shadow remembered, even if it was there. It didn't matter. They need to leave. He needs to leave.  
But the alarm grated at his ears as he shoved the man through the mirror, a large shard dislodging. Tiny silver daggers dug into his feet. He turned to the door, a shocking clarity and reality allowed him for the first time in years to focus. There's no more screaming. He couldn’t feel the hope anymore. Did everyone really forget him? No... Surely the library wouldn't forget its child.  
He rammed his shoulder into the door. It easily came off its hinges. There’s no hope for the mirror after all. Why would it keep them there? Its prisoners had already begun their escape, as did the warden.  
The boy lied there in the center of nothing. He shook and quaked as the shadow heard the smallest of singing filter through the muffled static in the shadow's ears. A rushed tune, panicked and grating as the boy struggled to keep himself together.  
The shadow paused for only a moment to look at the boy and the world around him. The mirror had given up creating a room for him.  
He rushed down the hall to the VCR. It's sturdier than everything else. It's more real. He can hear its continued beeping. It had to be real. He needed something real.  
Why was he so afraid wasn't real?  
He furiously hit his head a few times before he yanked it from where it sat. A rope was in his hand. He needed it after all. The mirror provided what you need.  
He tied the rope to the VCR and rushed back, tossing it into the void, red light blinking in the nothingness. It seemed to float for just a second. Another shard begins to fall and the sofa is gone with the cat. The TV static was still there with the beeping. Momentum was remembered, an old lesson he sat in on back when the old man insisted the boy actually go to school. The VCR flew further than it should, as far as he hoped it would.  
The rope landed over the boy's side and his face snapped up to see the shadow. Golden eyes met electric blue ones, wide and fearful as he grabbed onto the rope with shaking hands.  
He's yanked through nothing and into the arms of the shadow.   
Joyous laughter floated from both of them. The hallway barely reached their feet, but it didn’t matter as the boy rested his chin on the shadow's shoulder and didn’t mind the blood that pooled from his ears. A hand carded through his hair in comfort.  
"Ad astra?" the shadow whispered. The boy sobbed lightly through, clutching to him as the shards of glass continued falling. The shadow began to panic, pulling him closer. "AD ASTRA?!" The shadow shouted in hopes the boy could begin to hear him.  
"Per aspera."  
It's weak, shaking and barely a whisper. The shadow still smiled, releasing the boy and touched their foreheads together. They laugh one last time.  
He grabbed the boy and pushed him through the mirror.  
The shadow yanked the mirror from the wall, using the same wall to push himself. The rope trailed him, tight around his arm. He launched across the growing nothing.  
A foot met the TV. It's the most real thing there, the shadow decided. He knows it's real so it is. Why wouldn't the mirror provide for them? Something to hold onto? Something to watch? To help them forget.  
It's the only thing left he can hold onto.  
The shadow smashed the mirror into the screen. Shards fell, mixing and faded into nothing. He caught a piece before it had the same fate, and looked into it. He smiled and laughed as everything rotted away but him and the blinking red light of the VCR. It's a comfort. He knows it's there. How can he forget the only real thing?  
The shadow heard the muffled noises on the other side. Thoughts of hope. Thoughts of comfort. Thoughts of warmth. Blood is smeared on both sides of the shard.  
'Ad per aspera,' thought the shadow ruefully, allowing a grin, 'Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus.'  
He shut his eyes, clutching the shard to his chest and waits.

* * *

Time sighed in relief with his sides newly wrapped as Sky walked down the stairs. He looked happy, floating on air with an aura of glowing confidence Time hadn't seen in a long while.  
But that all stopped when he looked at the mangled forms of Four and Legend, who stood huddled together. Anger flashed across his face before being replaced by worry. Time grabbed his attention with a quick whistle and wave, giving a questioning look. Sky nodded in confirmation.  
Time turned back to watch Four grab the largest shard from the mirror before the floor of the library could swallow it like it swallowed the body of the other child. He looked in the reflection, lips forming a shaky smile as he wiped tears from his eyes. Legend glanced at it as well, scoffing in mock annoyance before wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulder and chuckling.  
He made some loud comment that was still drowned out by the laughter coming from Wind and Wild. Four chuckled, and Sky joined them with a confused look. He opened his mouth to comment before closing it and suddenly wrapping Four in a hug, an unwilling Legend followed along with much loud cursing.  
Time found himself relaxing when Four drew a pair of shears from one of his sandal straps, explaining something with eyes comically wide and hand movements comically almost stabbing someone with the scissors.  
They're okay, he realized. They'll always be okay.  
He knows who he's working with. He knows how they broke. He knows how to keep them from breaking, even if they don't know it themselves.  
He looked at the list he kept on him, stained and bloody. Simple instructions. Names. A note of what's to come and he smiled.  
The present hasn't grown so old yet. Hopefully the future could surprise him, for his boys’ sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ad astra per aspera - to the stars through difficulties  
> Amor et melle et felle est fecunissims - love is rich with both honey and venom  
> I liked the idea of them having their own little saying cause they’re childhood friends.   
> Twi’s coming next chapter! can I get a hell yeah?! sorry this took a bit, I kept changing how I wanted it to happen.  
> As well, sorry about shadow! He's not completely gone but goddamn are you wrong if im adding another character to this bullshit. It was actually up to my friend whether or not Shadow comes to the world of the light.  
> Originally, Ezlo was going to free Four, but that would bring in to many things for me to consider, way more than what i already have written down.  
> This is a reference to SCP-3001, the vcr and shadow that is.  
> Should I explain the mirror? probably. Gonna do that in a legit chapter tho, so yay! therapy time with sky!
> 
> Anyway, thanks to my friend Fusafez for beta reading this chapter to let me know if I fucked up the fight scene! Love ya darling <3  
> I hope y’all have a dandy day!  
> -Cherry


	7. Infections, Herons, and other things Twilight hates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Links arrive at Lon Lon Ranch and are greeted by Time's son Twilight, who bears bad news. Luckily, the boys are semi prepared to bullshit their way through this!
> 
> Or
> 
> The Links have a conversation for way to long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t written anything in a bit, sorry if its not up to par! It’s the longest chapter somehow? And nothing happens?  
> Barely edited. Sorry :(

The shears cut through the door like it was nothing more than wrapping paper, the metal seeming to fall away into a completely different form as Four stepped back with a curious look on his face. Sky reshuffled the heavy bag on his back before he pushed forward and fumbled with the unfamiliar door handle. He tried to push it open before blinking and forced the train of Links to back up as he pulled with most his weight hanging off of it. It opened with a metallic shriek, sending him stumbling into Legend who simply snorted.  
Warriors pushed in front of them all, face set in stone and a bat in hand. They were met with a farmhand who looked worn out and weary, holding a familiar pair of shears and a surprised look as the bat is suddenly pointed at his faced by the armed guard.   
"Woah there!" he exclaimed, backing up a step at the extremely non threatening weapon.  
Four snickered slightly as Sky sent him a look. The farmhand sounded like he was trying to calm a horse, and with the protective stance and righteous fury Warriors was holding, that wasn't too that far off. Maybe more akin to a donkey or mule.  
He was still an ass after all.  
Still they must’ve been quite a sight in their mismatched emergency clothes and blood covered selves. Four hadn’t changed besides throwing on a new cloak and knew he was absolutely soaked in blood. At this point he worried slightly for their collective laundry bill.  
"Lets drop the weapons alright? I'm Link Lon Lon Jr but please call me Twilight and this happens to be my mother's ranch. Pa texted me saying you were all coming through this door and I'm just here to greet y'all." He said.  
Warriors seemed unconvinced over... something. "Oh and let an anomaly like you kill my charges? Fat chance wolf boy!" He practically growled, snapping into a fighting stance with practiced ease.  
The farmhand narrowed his eyes and Four was very sure the only thing keeping a brawl from breaking out was the evident gun in the farmhand's pocket and the gore covered bat in the guard's hand. Both seemed a tad too smart to charge at the other.  
There was a muffled clunk as Four noted someone had tripped over a generator cord, shadow dancing wildly from the scattered lamps below as the figure fell and immediately stood. For a moment his breath caught in the back of his throat and he'd thought it to be Shadow. But, the freezing cold of the glass shard he clutched in his other hand and the rambling commentary whispered in his head told a different story, filling his stomach with a sort of melancholy sadness he’d forgotten he had even had.  
Dr. Time was suddenly standing into his view, waving his arms madly before furiously giving a thumbs up. He was shouting but it was too far and too quiet for Four to hear. Nobody else noticed as Warriors was getting into a shouting match with a confused and agitated Twilight.  
"Hiding out in the doctor's home, what kind of fucking idiot do you take him to be?! What, you expected to kill him first chance you get? Pretend to be his dead son?"  
"Now you listen here asshole-"  
"Um, hey Warriors?" Four called over. The guard's head swiveled slightly to him, blue scarf still drooping limply. "Dr. Time is giving us a thumbs up. Can you just let the guy go? You're literally the only one hung up on him being a weirdo like the rest of us."  
The farmhand glanced over Warrior's shoulder and shot Four a thankful look through the doorway before offering a warm smile that was only a tad strained to all of them.  
Warriors shrunk back at Sky's slightly frustrated glare and turned back to the farmhand, "Sorry 'bout that, I'll uh... yeah." He shuffled out of the way, keeping a side eye on the newest Link in their metaphorical and probably literal chain.  
Soon they all piled into the dimly lit room, cramming into the sides and watching warily to the door. Wild was bouncing on his heels with a nervous energy right next to Twilight, they chatted like old friends much to the annoyance and worry of Warriors.  
They could hear the clunky footsteps of someone running up the stairs as Doctor Time burst into the room, grinning broadly with a few of the more... Magical? Anomalous? Artifacts he'd once had Four hide with the minish in the library. Each was attached around his waist in a jury rigged belt that was mostly made of rope and duck tape.  
The man lit up upon spotting his son, calling out a "Hey there, Pup!" before he enveloped the farmhand in a large hug, grinning like nobody had ever seen before.  
"Howdy pa," the farmhand mumbled, grabbing onto him like it was the end of the world.  
And... than again that wasn’t so far off.  
"Its been a bit, kid," he said as he pulled away, clapping him and Wild on the shoulders. "Now than, why don't we head up and discuss our newest roadblocks in this ever growing shit show. We still have those lemon bars in the cabinet?"

* * *

Twilight led them down the path, listening intently to the forest around them. Time kept pace easily on the familiar path, listening to Twilight with an earnest sort of dread.  
"The things aren't getting too close but its stolen most of the nearby animals." Twilight said, he kicked a stone into the brush. "Its been so quiet, well, all besides the dogs, goats, cows, and those damned birds."  
"And how far is it, the strange things that is."  
"About three miles west. Remember that small community? Well they were attracting a lot of animals because its downstream and kept giving off heat. There was something... weird about the wildlife though, not right and I mean by your standards not mine."  
They continued on, Twilight pulled out his phone and flicked through his camera roll before settling on what he wanted. He placed it into Time's hand.  
Time was met with blurry photos of terrible creatures covered in flesh, rashes, and boils, almost unrecognizable in a shaky video that showed a dew hobbling along the parameter where the same fleshy substance partially covered the trees. Through shaky and obviously taken from an extremely far distance, Time knew quite well what he was being met with.  
For a time he'd been the containment specialist over this specific anomaly, strangely insistent on being able to study and figure out how to deal with the infection that is 610. Twilight still remembered the long arguments between his mother and father. Malon was always so worried and insisted that Time could get his information another way and that being involved with the foundation would put Twilight's safety in jeopardy. Time had insisted that it was the only way.  
Time sighed and handed it back to Twilight before turning and scanning the crowd of Links. "Sky! Wild! To me please." The researchers bounded over. "Four?" Twilight noted the shortest looked up, a bright blue scarf wrapped around his eyes as the partial pink haired one and Hyrule led him along, "Its 610 time again, keep the sheers on you, both pairs."  
Time was satisfied with the nod he received and turned to look at the doctors who fell in line with him with a sort of practiced ease that only belonged to co-conspirators and high school girls. Twilight fell back a few paces next to the soldier to let the doctors talk.  
He sunk back into the sounds around him. Nine pairs of shoes on the dirt path, all varying in stride, a few limping due to injuries. Bright afternoon sun filtered in through the slightly cloudy sky. The annoying calls of those god forsaken birds were sounding nearby, alerting nonexistent wildlife to their presence.   
"Hey."  
Twilight was torn back to reality from tracking one of those birds and glanced to the guard, head cocked slightly. The man was rubbing his neck sheepishly, almost seeming naked without his scarf.  
"I just wanted to say sorry." Twilight blinked in surprise at him. That had not at all been what he was expecting, if he had been expecting anything at all. "I... I shouldn't have gone off on you."  
Twilight hummed for a moment, "Nah, it's fine," He said. "I'm used to it. It's your job after all to protect them right?" He gets a nod in return. "Than you're doing a fine job. Not every guy is as cool as me and the rest of your... coalition?"  
"I think its a boy band at this point if I'm going to be honest."  
"Yeah lets stick with just 'our band' instead."  
They sank into a softer sort of silence before Warriors piped up, "You're a lot calmer than I remember."  
That got Twilight's attention. He immediately looked to the guard with a curiosity and noted the sorry nature that ebbed in Warrior's hunched form.  
"I was uh... assigned to you back when you were still in custody. Was on search and recontainment duty as well. Probably don't remember but I'm the one who shot your... paw?"  
"Wow, the god among storm troopers, that was a good ass shot," A round of low laughter. "Amazing they didn't wipe your memory after that."  
Warriors scoffed, "Well they sure did damn try, don't tell them it's never worked though. I like my job thank you."  
Twilight laughed and couldn't bring himself to be mad at Warriors, he'd been absolutely pissed so long ago but at this point its just not worth it. He sure did miss _her_ though.   
"But, I've always felt like shit for shooting a teen, sorry about that. I can see now that you aren't the monster they made you out to be."  
Twilight shrugged, "Don't be. You're just doing your job like I was. Mine's survivin', yours is catching. We're night and day I guess or some other metaphor."  
Warriors snorted and agreed as they opened the farmhouse door, all clustering inside.  
The feeling of home set Twilight into an easy comfort, Time and Wild immediately relaxing as well. They all trailed down the hall and piled into the kitchen and dining area, clustered around the table. They almost all sat in the chairs Twilight had previously hauled out of storage for what he was seeing as such an occasion.  
Why they had so many chairs was his father's decision, bought long ago before any of this happened. Maybe he knew something or maybe Time just made a very poor decision at Ikea, but than again who is Twilight to judge with his muddy Walmart boots.  
"Alright," Time began," Twilight, what's the low down. I know I sent you a report earlier but I have yet to hear all of yours."  
Twilight let out a puff of air. "Well, as I told you, the weird infection, er, 610? Yeah, 610 is spreading west and with the migrating animals I'd give it a week to reach us." At the serious tone and stony faced of the doctors, nobody moved to question what that even was. "I suggest we hop a few towns over to Anchorage but hey, what do I know. We don't have much food left at all, and from what pa told me, I'm assuming you weren't able to get to the market to stock up because of... complications>"  
"Monster attacked them apparently," Legend snorted. "Only saw the corpse when the floor was eating it but god above it was gross. Why'd ya think these asshats smell so gross?"  
A few shouted in indignation though Twilight noted Four flinched and turned away. He didn't question it, Kid probably had a run in with how much he and pink boy were wrapped up in bandages like the rest of the Links.  
"Before we continue, I should probably explain what we're actually against because this infection is gonna cause some issues."  
Time stood, looking around at the band of boys. He held his arms behind his back and held a grimace on his face.  
"Me and Four call him Dark Link because at this point I am very sure if someone not named Link showed up I would probably slap them," Many nodded in agreement and Twilight thought that was sad. "He's an ancient god fueled by memories of hate and pain and roams at the edges of our darkest memories as children, barely there but still trailing in out consciousness. But, he is not referred to as the forgotten god, because we as... humans no longer tell stories of him and he has been replaced by other such creatures."  
"And he's pissed?" Hyrule asks.  
"And he's pissed."  
"And a huge jerk," Twilight hears the short stack mutter from nearby."  
Time nods in a sage sort of wisdom, "He is indeed a huge jerk too. So, we gotta find a way to beat him. And no, no I do not know why its just us that are still here. As well, it just so happens that the infection is standing in our way of kicking his butt."  
He waited for a reaction but was met with completely in shocked faces of his fellow Links. Sky must've felt bad cause he gave a small "yay" and Wind provided jazz hands and a grimace.  
"So how are we gonna get rid of a disease or transformation or whatever the fuck this anomalous thing is?" Legend asked.  
"With arson."  
"Of course," he said and leaned back with a scowl, "Cause no, as a foundation we can't deal with anything normally. I worked in retail for six years and was framed for murder just to be met with this shit. I worked at goddamned Target, not Walmart, how am I supposed to know how to deal with arson!?"  
Time stared at Legend with an unconvinced look. "I know instead of shredding documents you and Wild burn them in Malon's waste basket in the break room. I may spend my time in the library but I also have access to security tapes."  
"Stalker much?"  
"Arsonist much?"  
Legend narrowed his eyes at the man before he nodded, "Touché doc, touché."  
Twilight cleared his throat before they could get anymore off track. "We can't get near the infection as well so that something we have to do is going to have to be special."  
"Great, any other amazing news, farmboy?" Warriors asked.  
Twilight sighed, "There's those damned birds that keep breaking in. Don't get me wrong, they do nothing wrong, but if they don't stop stealing my shit I will be making bird stew."  
Sky looked slightly taken aback before he turned and pulled his computer from the bag next to him. He opened it as everyone stared in an awkward silence as he tapped away quickly. Twilight briefly wondered who the man had internet but decided that questioning the absurd amalgamation that Time had designated as their router was not something he wished to do.  
"659."  
Everyone turned to the doctor as he smiled slightly at them.  
"Sorry, remembering an old project. I recognized their calls earlier. Do the bird's look like herons cause I may know what those are."  
"You know what herons are?" Twilight asked, eyebrow raised.  
"No, if they look like herons, than they aren't herons and I know what they are."  
"Doctor, no offense but that makes no sense."  
SKy sighed, "Do these birds look like herons?"  
"Yeah?" Twilight nodded, "Herons aren't even native here so its kind of weird." He pulled out his phone, scrolled and showed a picture of one to Sky.  
"Well than, we have a flock of 659 roaming around and I think I may have a solution to out problem."  
Wind perked up with a grin, "Are you gonna make another army?"  
"It would be our best bet," Wild said, "It'll take a bit for the flamingos to get here so lets strap a lighter to one and see if Sky can convince them to burn the infection to the ground."  
Everyone stared at Wild as Sky looked absolutely horrified. "We can't do that! It'll kill them! Why can't we just use drones or something else? Or wait for the flamingos? They can't be infected, they're plastic!"  
"You once told me 659 isn't above killing its own for the good of the flock. Its either we do this to slow down the spread and move, or we kill the earth before we get a chance to save its sorry ass." It was Wind who spoke up. "My sister once said that birds are angry and self righteous bastards who don't take shit from anyone. If we're going to get someone to burn whatever the fuck y'all are worried about, birds are the way to do it."  
"Thank you Wind but please, language, we aren't animals," Time sighed as Legend snorts and mutters a "speak for yourself" that was met with a slight glare.  
Warriors sighed, "So, how exactly are we going to create fire?"  
Wind snapped his fingers and shot up and out of the kitchen, from the window they saw him heading down the path. Four returned from god knows where (not that they noticed he'd left mid conversation) and stood near Sky and Warriors who were checking on him and Legend with such ferocity it was beginning to visibly grate on Legend's nerves. Four did seem to mind and kept quiet as SKy gingerly replaced the blood soaked bandaged from around his head.   
Wild took to beginning to sort through their current food storage with Hyrule as everyone avoided the topic at hand until their youngest team member returned, simply choosing small talk that turned into a playful bout of argument over simpler things such as hair care and the strangest experiences they all had had.  
Warriors became oddly quiet when Legend commented over some of his, and though he didn't provide many details, Twilight could see it unsettled the guard.  
Wind returned as did Wild with a large collection of things akin to sandwiches. It was a lot of bread and various foods he just plopped on as there wasn't much to eat.  
Wind placed a cardboard box on the table, grinning wildly.  
"These my fellow bitches," "Language!" "Are dragons!"  
Everyone stared at the box as his smile grew a tad bit sheepish. "Well not right now! This is 1762! They can breath fire so maybe we can ask them to set things on fire for us! And they're paper! That can't get infected, right?"  
"Wind, 1762 is neutralized," Warriors said, eyebrows raised, "I was stationed near its containment. I read the last message. There aren't anymore dragons."  
A sort of sadness seemed to emanate from most of them who recognized the box until Sky smiled softly at Wind, "That's a great idea, hopefully an instance occurs soon." He turned to Warriors and winked, "Wind here brought them back. He has a sort of magic, as I like to say, when it comes to these kinda of things."  
Sky tapped away a few times at his handy dandy laptop before turning it around. Displayed was a picture of Wind surrounded by both fire and varying kinds of origami dragons, each perched on him while Dr. Wild was noticeably stomping out the fire on his clipboard in the background.  
Legend whistled in appreciation.  
"I have duck tape," Twilight offered, "And gasoline. We could probably rig something if we had a drone or-"  
"Duck tape and a phone," Four called over. He'd taken to sitting on the island in the kitchen, holding that glass shard in his mini fort of random books he'd seemingly collected. Many were Malon's handwritten guides for caring for horses and cows and a few were cookbooks that had been in his family for years. He had one opened in his lap and was traced the words with a finger.  
Twilight blinked at him in surprise before nodding, "That or if any of y'all are good at programming, we can mess with one of our game cameras, maybe the Ring?"  
"Wait you guys have a fucking Ring but not a drone? Are you back road farmers or are you modern mad science enthusiasts? Your aesthetic is utterly fucked."  
Hyrule sighed from next to him and sent a small glare, "Be nice, Legend." He turned back and said his own piece, "A Ring would be better. Game cameras wouldn't be as good. I've had to use one on my... er... travels and it just takes pictures. What's up with this infection exactly?"  
"We won't be able to touch it after it enters the area," Time said, "And the birds..." He glanced to Sky with worry in his eyes and sighed. "They're going to have to be left for dead. They cannot leave the area without threatening the rest of us. If there’s an epicenter, than we can kill most of it as long as it hasn't tunneled. We have exactly three days until it begins tunneling and heading directly to us, give or take a few remaining hours. The blast killing the epicenter will most likely kill the birds and destroy whatever we send in there."  
The Links voiced agreement.  
"So we use your Ring, rig it to a group of birds with some router or something cause shits gotta have internet, and we blow stuff up?" Legend asks, "And what happens if the epicenter isn't there?"  
The look on time's face was one of sadness, of a man whose already lost it all before, "We'll lose the farm and it will continue to spread to our final battleground. That becomes hell to go through. When anomalies clash, well, lets say its not good."  
"Wait, what other anomaly? What else are we against?" Warriors asked, eyes wide.  
Time shrugged, "A weather report in the UK is going to give us some annoying information, luckily me and Four are prepared for this kind of thing. You boys know about sled dogs?"  
Twilight immediately looked excited, "You mean there actually is a purpose to bringing in the neighbor's pups!?"  
A few Links seemed to share in that excitement, Wind grinning as Four nodded than flinched and held a hand to the side of his head.  
"Of course, don't want to jinx it but we'll figure that out when it comes. Its not set in stone but hopefully destroying the infection will make everything easier and collecting the dogs worth it."  
A few moved to argue for more information but loud calls, grating and what would've been described as demonic if that hadn't just been the natural voices of the birds sounded from outside. The lock on the door clicked and they all turned as Twilight let out a fairly impressive string of curses that he had obviously learned from Malon. He dove for the door and shoved his back against it.   
Scratching became evident and curious squawks.   
"Dr. Sky! Whatever you plan on doing, do it NOW! Please, we don't have enough food for these bastards to steal!"  
Sky nodded and stood, slipping his backpack into his bag before he tossed it into his pack and smiled kindly at all the Links, reassuring them as he headed out the back door. He called out and the scratching stopped as a hoard of herons flew past the kitchen window.  
They spotted Sky leading the group farther out into the field before sitting down and letting them settle around him, beginning to talk as he brought out a pen and legal pad.  
Four followed after, he claimed the silence was beginning to grate on him and he needed time alone like he was used too. Apparently being alone for a good 2000 years either meant you need alone time or are just confusing as all hell.  
They watched Four sit nearby, close enough that a few bird's flapped over and stood around him, a few on his shoulders as they cocked their heads in curiosity and picked at his necklace that shone brightly in the sun. Four let them, keeping his eyes covered by his hair as the sun, while slightly hidden was still bright.  
"Well," Time said, "We should probably get stuff done. Wind? Stick to that box. Twilight? Get the dogs ready and get us supplies. Legend? Hyrule? Plan something for the birds would ya? Wild? You're with me, we need to move stuff out of storage."  
They all nodded to him, a few giving mock salutes and a few others glancing wearily to the birds outside and than over to the horizon like they would be able to catch sight of the infection.

* * *

The sun bared down on him in righteous fury, brighter than his admittedly fuzzy memory would allow him to remember. The world was still muffled but he could hear the small whispers on the other side of the glass, clear as the sweet rain he missed. The birds lightly picked at his clothed and hair as they remained perfectly still. Truthfully they reminded him of the minish and how skittish they had first been towards him.  
He smiled brightly when he hears Shadow's strained laugh. He sounds so far away but at least the mirror let him have this one thing, even after ripping everything away before.   
He knew Dr. Sky is nearby, talking softly to the greater mass of birds. From what he remembered the birds shared a collective intelligence. They would know what the others would so, it's okay they got a little separated, he thought.  
Besides that they were rather friendly! Strange, he remembered Sky had said they were vengeful toward humans but that's when they had been in captivity.  
Four thought they just wanted a little freedom, maybe they had not been so violent because there weren't anymore people.  
Sky finally glanced behind himself to see Four, startled as he jumped at the sheer number of birds that had collected around Four. Four thought it was pretty neat. He couldn't exactly talk to them cause he didn't have a pen and paper but a giant grumpy one decided his head was its new home and was keeping the rowdier birds in line.  
"They say they'll help," Sky called over, making sure to speak up, "They're worried about their own home. Eight are willing to be... er... sacrificed. The rest are insisting they stay with us until we make it to the city."  
Four shrugged, whispering apologies to the mildly inconvenienced birds he had dislodged in doing so. He didn't really have many options, just a job to do and a library to protect, and if he was lucky, if the fates were on his side like Shadow always joked they were, maybe he'd find his other friend.  
The birds, all but the old one on his head, suddenly rose up, taking to the sky in a flurry that he couldn't really see because he was operating off silhouettes. A few he noted passed to the house, breaking off from the mass that swept into the woods.  
Sky seemed proud and glanced in confusion at the old bird but just shrugged when it let out a throaty croak that was only mildly terrifying. It tapped him lightly on the head until Four let out a sigh and stood, clumsily following Sky to where the bunker was. His head still felt like he was swimming and the earth and bird weren't doing him many favors.  
Lightly he'd be nudged by the bird to prevent him from tripping over something until they reached the open doors of the bunker. The bird shuffled as Four hummed probably a bit to loudly. He slipped the shard into his belt, careful not to let it cut him as he began slowly climbing down after Sky to stand in the cold room. The metal door was wide open and they could hear the frustrated grunts and clunks of someone mistakenly using a rolling cart to move a heavy item down stairs. Not that Four would know this and would never admit to breaking some very valuable things with Dot and Shadow in his... youth?  
They followed the sounds to find exactly what he feared and what he only vaguely remembered as a television. All he really know were computers, guns, and phones, as well as Tetris but at this point he's just going with the flow. The real issue was Wild freaking out over the 4001-3's that were chewing them out because they had scuffed the stairs and he didn't want to run them over.  
Four sighed and shouted around the hubbub, "Ey! I think they get it, best to move before they crack the floor dropping it!"  
The minish squeaked something he was too far to hear and began skittering out of the way. The heron stood from his head, crouching before beating it's wings and flying down, it snatched the minish from where they stood. Wild and Four yelled in alarm, Four far louder until the bird drew higher and let the minish go mid air into his trembling hands. Immediately he clutched them loosely to his chest, heart beating wildly as he looked down in worry. The heron lightly stood on his head before ducking down and letting out a grating call to the researchers.  
The minish curled into his palms, clutching his cloak as Sky and Time, and Wild who could barely see over the boxy machine, stared at him in surprise. He heard a question called up lightly to him as his head shot down, almost dislodging the bird and sending a shard of pain rocketing through his head. He was given another annoyed squawk and let out another string of apologies, to both the bird and more importantly to the minish. He let them up to curl on his shoulders, sitting in the folds of his cloak as they were his easily by his curtain of hair.  
They continued on with bringing the tv down until they easily set it down in the middle of the base camp. Four settled onto a couch, letting the minish off as the heron began fussing with the bandages and dried blood in his hair.  
"Hey!" He cried, flicking the heron back when it suddenly pulled a piece to hard. "Can you please quite that?" The heron let out another squawk and settled down.  
The television was soon set up, attached to a strange generator that was usually kept around for the computer terminals. They messed with it until the screen showed an annoying static, it made no noise—or that was just his hearing, the mirror really fucked him up—and just kind of sat there. The little egg shaped timer he knew they had stolen from Dr. Malon's kitchen was perched onto it next to the clock. Several exposed wired connected them in a jury rigged mess.  
Four stared tiredly at it until a stack of old worn books was set next to him, papers piled as well as a clunky computer, writing scrawled across the notes taped to it.   
Four grinned and a few minish chirped, they climbed up to settle along his arms and the blanket Sky had piled around him. They were warily watching the heron whom had buried its head backwards, perhaps sleeping.  
He cracked open the computer, taped over letters greeting him, all worn from frantic use as he sighed and began his work.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCP-610 - The Flesh That Hates  
> SCP-659 - Communal Avian Intelligence  
> SCP-1762 - Where the Dragons Went  
> SCP-2049 - The Interdimensional Weather Station
> 
> My notes legit just say RANCH and I have no idea what is happening or what that is supposed to mean. I have a goal. I have details I need to branch off of. I know something had to happen but I didn’t know what.   
> This is why im introducing SCPs 1762, 659, 2049, and 610.  
> I’m definitely butchering 610 and recommend reading it, its creepy and really well written.   
> I… I don't know what I’m doing. I really don’t and I’m sorry.   
> The heron is Ezlo, I felt like he deserved to be here.  
> Sorry for not updating, I haven’t written in about two weeks and am finally sitting down to get just SOMETHING down.  
> Sorry for the wait but thank you all for reading and commenting, I really appreciate it <3  
> I hope you have a dandy day,  
> -Cherry

**Author's Note:**

> So we're trying this whole multi chapter thing again!  
> I made an SCP au and please note that specific SCPs used as the boys have been altered in some way! I'm not explaining that now, but please note that SCP-4001 is used with a few (alright many) differences. I do not own mentioned SCPs unless directly stated.  
> I hope you enjoy, this is gonna be a wild ride! The rest of the boys minus Twilight will be showing up next chapter!  
> Sorry if there are a few issues, its been a while since I've written anything :/. Critiques are welcome! Thank you for reading and I hope you have a dandy day <3  
> -Kyle


End file.
